To Be Mad Is To Feel With

One Is Attracted To Beauty. Beauty Is The Coordination Of Things, In Such A Way, That It Is What Attracts You. It's Almost Self-defining.

How The Holy And The Profane Mix In The Light Of Day And At The End Of Life Is Sometimes The Most Beautiful Thing In This World And A Compassionate Entry Into The Next. After Failure And Defeat, A Concentration Upon Certain Beauties, Though Forever Lost And Unretrievable, Can Lift The Wounded Past Roundedness And The Dying Past Dying, Protecting Them With An Image, Still And Bright, That Will Ride With Them On Their Long Ride, Never To Fade And Never To Retreat.

Why Do You Think Great Leaders And Great Orations Are Coincident With Wars, Revolutions, And The Founding Or Ending Of Governments And States? Common Interests Then Are So Clear That Speeches Are Effortlessly Drawn, But At Present Neither The Facts Nor The Consequences Are Sufficiently Clear To Make Oratory Legitimate. This Is The Kind Of War That Will Wind On And Make Fools Of Its Partisans And Opponents Both.

No One Ever Said That You Would Live To See The Repercussions Of Everything You Do, Or That You Have Guarantees, Or That You Are Not Obliged To Wander In The Dark, Or That Everything Will Be Proved To You And Neatly Verified Like Something In Science. Nothing Is: At Least Nothing That Is Worthwhile.

They Gave Themselves Up To The Stars The Way Swimmers Can Surrender To The Waves, And The Stars Took Them Without Resistance.